Gypsy Love: A Gypsy Beach Novel (19 page)

Arley’s eyes blinked open just after three the next morning. She shifted, and John automatically repositioned in his sleep to keep her safe in his arms. His very slight snoring had awoken her. She guessed he had to have a few flaws. He was human after all. She let the night replay slowly in her mind. He’d made her feel like a princess, and he’d played every part her Prince Charming.

She eased away from him slightly, so she could look at his face in the moonlight. “I love you.” She mouthed the words just to see what it might feel like to say them. The crickets outside her apartment sang their soft lullaby, and she wished so badly that she could bring herself to awaken him and tell him how she felt and that she knew he loved her, too. That he didn’t have to be afraid. But she couldn’t. With an audible exhalation of breath, she tried to quiet her mind and enjoy the feeling of being caught up in the safety of his arms.

The next time she awoke she was alone in her bed. Panic shot through her as she forced herself upright and drew her robe tightly around her. Her abdomen eased when she found John sipping coffee and poring over the original manuscript of
The Man from Wellington.
She grinned.

Sensing her presence, John smiled automatically. “I can’t believe I’m getting to read this. It’s incredible. Here.” He stood. “Sit down, sweetheart. I’ll make you some coffee.”

After their coffee, John made a concerted effort to try and get Arley to eat something, but she didn’t manage more than a piece of toast. Her nerves were palpable. John was glad the hearing was that morning. He wasn’t certain she would make it to an afternoon session.

While driving her to the Birmingham courthouse, he kept up constant reassurances that this would be open and shut. He could offer her no promises on how her family would react, however, and that’s what had her spun so tightly.

Truthfully, he thought she was better off without them, but he knew that wasn’t what she wanted. After locating a parking place, he engaged the emergency brake on his Porsche and went on with the speech he really didn’t want to have to make. If it weren’t absolutely necessary, he never would have given her this particular rule.

“Sweetheart, you know I’m crazy about you. I’m in this until you decide you’re better off without me. I’m hoping you don’t figure that out too soon, but for today, just until we’re outside of the courthouse, we probably shouldn’t act like a couple. I don’t want to give your family any room to appeal this.”

“So, we’re a couple?”

Her question threw him. Of all of the responses he’d been expecting, that sure as hell wasn’t it. “I kind of thought that’s what we had going on.” He shrugged.

Arley bit her tongue to keep from demanding to know what that meant to John. She had to focus on the hearing right now, but later, they needed to talk about this relationship. Hanging in the balance was too exhausting.

“Okay,” she managed as she opened her own door and stepped out of the Porsche.

John had the letters and copies of emails already submitted to the judge in his briefcase. He kept his hand professionally on the small of her back and tried to treat her the way he treated any of his regular clients. He directed her to a bench near the Probate Judge’s office.

They were assigned a small courtroom a few minutes later, and he took the seat beside her. What little color her beautiful face managed to hold evaporated as a woman that had to be one of her sisters entered the courtroom with two men. “That’s Savannah and Billy, the one with the mullet. And that’s my Uncle.”

“The fine Probate Judge of Tilldale, Alabama?” John husked.

Her slight smile and gentle nod eased his heart. Her nerves were getting to him.

“I’m right here, sweetheart. It will all be over soon. I promise.” He winked at her discreetly.

“Oh my God! My mother came!” she choked as a woman with her nose so far in the air, John was certain she would drown come rainfall, stalked into the courtroom, along with her own lawyer. She was a monument of righteous indignation if ever there was one.

John smirked at her defense attorney.
Bring it, asswipe. I’m about to own you, her entire family, and this courtroom.

As this was just a will hearing and not an actual trial, the judge eased in from his office and took his seat. “All right, this hearing is to determine right to inheritance for a Miss Arley Evelyn Copeland from the last will and testament of her father, Mr. Dylan Earl Copeland. That correct?”

John gave the judge a respectful nod. Mrs. Copeland’s attorney followed suit.

“Mrs. Evelyn Anders Copeland and her sister Mrs. Ruth Anders Blackman hold that Arley is not in compliance with the stipulations of Dylan Copeland’s will and therefore should not be awarded her assigned inheritance. Is that correct, Mrs. Copeland?”

“Yes, your honor.”

John was taken aback suddenly. Arley had been named after her mother. He wondered if she hated her middle name as much as he hated his.

Arley rolled her eyes. “She looks like she’s in perfect health to me,” she huffed under her breath. John coughed to cover her declaration and tried to hide his delighted smirk. There was that fire she’d been missing all morning.

“Shh, baby.” he mouthed.

“And Mrs. Copeland, you believe that it is Arley’s career that does not follow your husband’s guidelines for behavior required to receive her allotted monthly inheritance from his estate?”

“Yes.” Mrs. Copeland refused to even glance Arley’s way. John had to order himself to keep his arms away from Arley. He wanted to take her away from her horrible family, take her out of that courtroom, and wrap her up in him. He wanted to take her away from anything that might cause her more pain.

“Ms. Copeland,” the judge turned to Arley, “Could you please tell the court what it is you do for a living?”

John offered her a kind smile.

“I’m an erotic romance writer, your honor, sir,” she answered with more tonality than he was certain she had in her at the moment. Grace and strength exuded from her. She’d dug deep, and he’d never been more proud.

Air that had been trapped painfully in John’s lungs managed to escape. The judge nodded his understanding, but didn’t seem to agree with her mother’s assessment of her career.

“And your legal counsel has submitted numerous emails and letters from your father encouraging your writing career. He’s included several copies of one of your manuscripts with your father’s notes in them. It appears he helped you hone your craft. Are these all from your father, Dylan Copeland, Arley?”

“Yes, sir. Daddy helped me write my first novel, and he emailed me almost every day, encouraging my work when I first started submitting manuscripts to publishers.”

“Your honor, sir, I do have several outside samples of Dylan Copeland’s handwriting if analysis is necessary. You have the dozens of emails, all with date and time stamps and Dylan’s email account in the headers. They’re all from her father.”

“Agreed, Mr. Rowan.”

“So, Mrs. Copeland, it seems your husband had no problems with your daughter’s career. Makes me wonder why you seem to have such an issue with it.”

“Arley is making a mockery of her father’s career, your honor. The family won’t stand by and allow her to do this.” This time Billy had spoken.

The judge narrowed his eyes. “And who are you?”

“William Hutchison, sir. I’m married to Savannah, Arley’s older sister,” he announced as if his nuptials were a ratifying accomplishment.

“And what business is this of yours, Mr. Hutchison? Unless you are asked a question directly, sit down and shut up, son.”

John fought not to laugh. Arley tried to hide her sly grin.

“Ms. Copeland, if I may be so bold, with the evidence your attorney presented, this case is open and shut, but your father passed three years ago, dear. Why did you wait until now to bring this court?”

Arley drew a deep breath. “Well, sir, I’d hoped that my family would realize that I take my career very seriously. They don’t have to like or read my work, but I believe that stories make the entire world go around. They’re how we pass down family histories, past mistakes, past victories, and most importantly, they’re how we share love. When I realized that they weren’t going to release the money to me, even knowing that Daddy would have wanted me to have it, I felt my hands were tied. My uncle, he’s right there,” she pointed to the man simpering beside her mother, “is the probate judge in Tilldale, where we’re all from. I knew he wouldn’t rule in my favor. I didn’t know I could have the hearing moved until Mr. Rowan explained that to me.”

“Is that so?” The judge turned his baleful glare on Arley’s uncle. “Mr. Blackman, did you or did you not vow to administer justice faithfully and impartially when you became a judge in Tilldale?”

“Uh, I did, sir.”

“Might want to remember that in the future. I’d hate to have to report you to the state ethics committee. Mrs. Copeland, is there any other evidence you have of Arley’s behavior that you feel wouldn’t meet your husband’s standards? I’ve checked thoroughly. She has no record of any kind. She has no outstanding credit issues. Her bills are paid on time. She doesn’t even have a parking ticket to her name. Seems like an upstanding citizen to me.”

Tangible fury broadcast from Arley’s mother, but she never even cast a glare Arley’s direction. “No, your honor.”

With a nod, the judge shrugged. “This court rules in favor of Ms. Arley Evelyn Copeland. She is to receive the full amassed amount of her inheritance as set by her father from the time of his death to the current date, and then she will receive a monthly allotment just as Mr. Copeland’s other children do.” He slammed the gavel and that was that.

Arley slumped in relief, and John wanted desperately to embrace her. Her family followed her mother out of the courtroom like mindless sheep willing to follow their leader right off of a cliff. John shook his head. Tears welled in Arley’s eyes as she watched them go. They never even acknowledged her. How do you refuse to see your own child?

Trying to stop her chin from trembling seemed impossible when her entire body was quaking. Her own mother just walked out on her. This was what happened when you go your whole life pretending to be something you aren’t. You ended up abandoned and scorned. You ended up alone.

Hollow and empty, Arley allowed John to guide her back to his car. She would never be able to dislodge the mental imagery of her family walking away without so much as a backwards glance. She’d never missed her father more than she did at that moment. The days she’d promised herself with him faded quickly into surviving moment to moment. John was going to leave, as well. She’d been lying about who she was and what she wanted the entire time. She’d done it again.

“Just trust me a little while longer, baby doll.” John urged as he dug into massive baked potatoes at Al’s Deli and Grill.

She forced herself to continue playacting just a little while longer. The numbness of her brain offered her no other options. Rejection clawed at her heart with vicious mocking that she’d never be worthy anyway. “I do trust you. I was just anxious to get something back,” she sighed.

“I know, but if you start buying them back book by book, you’ll kill my negotiating power. I want to make an offer for them as one set. I’ll save you a shit-ton of money that way.”

“Okay.”

By the time they returned from having new tires put on her Corolla, she was a disaster. The whirlwind that had been her life turned to a maelstrom in her gut. She stared out the window and tried to let the soft rain that had arrived just as the sun had set soothe her.

“Arley, baby, what’s wrong? I kind of thought you’d be happy.” John handed her a mug of coffee, but she couldn’t drink it. She set it on her desk and tried to navigate her way back to him. It was too much. There was just too much at stake. She couldn’t fight the overwhelming tides of never knowing when the end was coming.

The ground beneath her felt unsteady, like she was living in blind hope on a cracking fault line of lies she’d told herself from the beginning. She couldn’t go on that way forever. She just couldn’t. It wasn’t in her.

She’d spent her entire childhood trying desperately to be something that she wasn’t to make everyone around her happy. She’d been the perfect child, gotten perfect grades, always acted however her mother decreed, and all it had earned her was her family turning their back on the real her. It was all because she’d never allowed them to see who she really was until all of a sudden her name was being stamped across an erotic novel. Everyone needed love and acceptance, but she’d orchestrated herself out of ever really receiving it. They loved the woman she pretended to be and hated the woman she really was. As soon as she revealed her true soul and desires to John, he was going to walk away, as well.

She’d gone on far too long pleasing them instead of being true to who she really was. She couldn’t do that ever again. You couldn’t pretend to be someone you weren’t for an entire lifetime, and an entire lifetime is what she wanted.

“Arley, come on. You’re scaring me.” John stepped closer, trying to soothe her.

She shook her head and dammed back tears with the clench of her molars. She had to do this, and she had to do this now. Gathering the original manuscript of
The Man from Wellington,
she handed it to John. “I want you to have this.”

“What?” He looked like she’d just backhanded him. “No, I’m not taking that. Why are you saying this?”

“Please, I want you to have it. My father, his work, this book is real to you. It means so much to you. But what we have, John, it isn’t real to you. And it’s so incredibly real to me. I’m in love with you, and I’m pretty sure I will always be in love with you, but I want forever.”

He stared at her completely stunned.

“I want you forever. I want a ring, and a certificate, and a little house out on a lake where I write and cook you dinners and you come home early from work and we have a real life together. I want that forever, and you don’t believe in forever.”

“Arley …” He shook his head, unable to refute her pleas.

“And what’s more than all of that, I deserve forever. I deserve everything I just said I wanted. And the worst part of all of this is that I know you love me, too. I can feel it when you hold me in your arms, but you don’t want forever, and you don’t believe anything lasts that long. You don’t believe in love, John. You can’t seem to see the most powerful force in this whole stupid world. I can’t go on like this. I can’t go on wondering if someday you’re going to get sick of me or tired of me and turn around and walk away. I just can’t.

“So, thank you so much for the past two weeks. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, but I can’t keep doing this. Please, take the manuscript. He would want you to have it, and it would mean so much to me to know that you have it. But I think you should go.”

“Don’t you get it, Arley? Marriage is a stupid piece of paper. It’s nothing. I help end a half-dozen a day. I cannot do that to you. I can never hate you, and I could never live with myself if I somehow made you hate me. And every single marriage that ends, that’s what comes of it. All of that love they swore they were in evaporates into the oblivion, and hate is the only emotion that they bring to the courtroom. I cannot hate you. I won’t do it. I can’t. If you want me to go, I’ll go, but this is real life, not one of your books. No one gets a happy ending. Nothing lasts a lifetime.”

“You’re wrong! Love can last a lifetime. It isn’t easy. Life isn’t easy, but you can’t just always leave yourself a way out, John. Sometimes you have to believe in something outside of yourself enough to step out in faith. I need you to believe in us, to believe in me, and you don’t, not really. I’m not sure you ever will.”

John caught her chin in his hand and lifted her eyes defiantly up to his own. “You’re right about one thing; I do love you, but it’s better for me to leave right now while we still love each other than for me to try and make myself believe that you could love me for a lifetime. No one could love me that long. I cannot hate you and that’s what’s at the end of this road. I see it every fucking day of my life.”

Arley jerked her chin out of his hand, spun, and broke down in sobs. Why did the right thing always have to be the most horrible thing to do?

Shaking his head in abject disbelief, John stalked to the bedroom, gathered his things, grabbed his briefcase and slammed the door behind him.

Trying to recapture her breath and manage to speak somewhat clearly, Arley located her cell phone. She had to make one phone call before she gave herself over to the cessation, to the riptide that she was certain was going to swallow her whole. She had to know that someone would check on him and make sure he was all right.

“Hello?”

“Sienna … it’s … Arley.” She broke down again. She just couldn’t hold it together.

“Arley! What’s wrong?”

John could taste the bitter salt of his tears as they trailed over his lips, but he refused to wipe them away. At least their fever was something he could feel. Everything else felt numb. What the hell had happened? They’d been perfect together. What the hell was forever, anyway? Some moronic concept that didn’t exist, of that much he was sure. His body jolted as he passed the Georgia line. He refused to look back. Nothing good ever happened in that stupid state anyway. It was full of nothing but pain.

He had no interest in going home. Everything there would just remind him of her. He located a dive bar outside of Buckhead and headed inside. The liquor wasn’t capable of burning away the sickening pain. He left after one drink and ordered himself home. He’d figure out the rest tomorrow.

Arley sobbed until her body was able to supply her no more tears. She laid curled up in a ball in her bed, clinging to the pillow he’d slept on. She wasn’t certain she could go on without him, but she had a better chance of surviving this than she would’ve trying to be something she wasn’t. That knowledge just didn’t make it hurt any less.

John stumbled from the horrific pain more than the liquor as he managed his way up to the steps to the condo he despised. It was nearing midnight. He felt like he hadn’t slept in days, but was certain he wouldn’t be resting that night. His chest was hollow and his body ragged and raw. He saw someone move in the shadows and he jerked his head up right. Truthfully, he couldn’t find it in himself at that moment to give a shit if he got mugged.

Ryan stepped into the light. “We need to talk.” He pointed to the door.

“What the hell are you doing here? How the hell did you get here?”

“I brought Evie down to see Alexa today. We left a little while ago, but I just took her back for the night. Like I said, we need to talk. You’ve been taking care of me for the last decade, and I think it’s high time I returned the favor.”

John shoved open the door to his condo, tempted to slam it in his best friend’s face. “Fuck off, man. I’m really not in the mood right now.”

“Yeah, I figured that, but we’re still going to talk.”

“John.”

He spun around before closing the door to take in his mother’s face. She’d been crying.

He glared hatefully at Ryan. “Really?”

“I brought in the big guns because you need to listen, John.”

“Please, son, just hear me.” His mother all but begged. He stared her down. There was nothing she could say to make this better, and they both knew that. “John, baby, you’ve spent your whole entire life trying to undo what your father did, and that was never your responsibility.”

John shook his head, unable to believe the past six hours of his life.

“You are not him, John.” Ryan cut his mother off. “You have never done anything like what he did, until you walked out on her tonight. Think about that. Until this moment, you were nothing like him, but this, this is precisely what he did.”

“He’s right.” Ms. Rowan nodded. “You wanted so badly to be able to fix what you think he broke, but sweetheart, you just can’t. See, what you could never seem to see was that life may not have always been easy, but we were never broken, John. We had each other. That was all I ever needed. You can’t craft your way into some version of a perfect life and hope to insulate yourself from the world. Baby, you need Arley, and she needs you. You cannot go on for your entire life pretending that you don’t love her because you’re terrified that she’ll walk away, too. That isn’t how life works.”

“She’s right. Life will break you, man. It’s inevitable. But having someone that will hold your hand when life isn’t going the way you want, that is the only way to survive this fucked up world. You can’t just go on not living. You’ve been doing that for years, and it hasn’t gotten you anywhere good. You belong with her, forever. You know that. You’re letting your terror that you’ll somehow turn into your old man and hurt her the way he hurt you rule your entire life. You’re not a coward, John. Don’t act like one now.”

His mother wiped away another round of tears. “Do you want to know what I really think? I know you won’t believe me, but I’m going to tell you anyway.”

Too tired to argue, John waited.

“Arley told me that when her father wrote
The Man from Wellington
that he stayed up night after night for weeks to finish it and get it published the following year. He rushed it to the editors and publishers. She said that with every other novel he worked methodically on a schedule, but not with
The Man From Wellington
. He was like a man possessed. Baby, I bought that book on your birthday. I checked on it at the bookstore for weeks before that. I needed something to bring you back to me. That book that saved your life is the very same book he wrote so frantically. Something wouldn’t let him delay it. It wouldn’t give him rest. So, call it God, or fates, or angels, or whatever you want, but her father saved my son so that someday, after he was dead and gone, my son could marry his daughter and they could save each other.”

“Gypsy magic.” Ryan breathed the words. His chiseled face was set in shock.

“What if I can’t?” John finally erupted. “What if I don’t know how to love her for her whole life? She deserves someone that knows how to do that! What if I just up and decide to leave her?”

Ryan’s shock melted, and he shook his head. “You are not your father! You will not do that, but if you want to know how you love someone for a lifetime, man, let me tell you. You do it one day, one moment at a time. You get up every single morning for the rest of your life and you decide that she is the most important person in your entire world. You do everything you can to make her smile, and trust me, if you do that, she’ll do a whole lot of things that make you smile. But a lifetime is just this collection of one moment at a time, one smile at a time, one cup of coffee at a time and it all adds up to equal a lifetime love. That’s how you do it. One millisecond at a time. You stop trying to take on an entire lifetime in one moment and let the moments make up the lifetime.”

“And, baby, I want you to have that with Arley. I’ve never seen anyone make you smile like she does.”

“Me either.” Ryan agreed.

“You’re too smart to let your fear beat you, John. Choose love instead. Always choose love over fear.”

The pain went to war with the hope his best friend and his mother thrust upon him. The knowledge that he had already walked out on her took vicious blows at his battered soul. He had to fix what he’d done. He’d let fear turn into the very monster he’d tried so hard to bury inside of himself, inside of his work, inside of his entire life.